Solo Leveling Audio Novels & Stories

Natasha voice was cut short when Pinky's phone started to ring. "Who's Calling you now I want to say something important"Natasha said angrily but instead of to see pinky sad face,a little smile cup out of her face as she bought out the phone from her pocket. "Seth..."Natasha read out loudly.. "Hello Seth" "Hello pinky, how are you doing today?"Seth asked over the phone.. "Am fine and you" "Am cool but just thinking about you"pinky blushed. "Me too"pinky replied..

The lyrics were sugar-coated nonsense, bouncing around the interior like confetti on caffeine. “What in the world are we listening to?” I asked, unable to mask the horror in my voice. Dante grinned, tapping the steering wheel in rhythm. “Trolls soundtrack. It’s catchy, right? You like it?” I blinked at him, appalled. “No. Absolutely not.” He shrugged. “Selene downloaded it on my Spotify. I didn’t realize it would be... so upbeat.” I sighed, leaning back into the seat, regretting every second of this ride that wasn’t wrapped in silence. And we weren’t even at the commune yet.

“I’ve got an audio file queued up and ready to send. Think of it as... a teaser.” He leaned in slightly, eyes glinting. “Your voice, Julia. From one of your old field recordings. Want to guess what you were saying?” “You’re bluffing.” He smirked. Tapped the screen again. A soft click, then the low crackle of static. My voice bled through—faint at first, like it was pushing through water. Warped. Hollow. But still recognizably mine. “I didn’t come to make conversation. Just the drop. No introductions. No questions. Just the money.”

Aurora was still half-disbelieving. "Seriously," Kevin replied, pressing the button. "Come on, think of this as soul therapy." The music began to play. The first song Kevin chose was a cheerful pop song with light lyrics. Kevin sang with enthusiasm, though his voice was a bit off-key, making Aurora unable to hold back her laughter. "Your voice..." Aurora laughed, covering her mouth. "It's bad, I know," Kevin said, laughing too. "So, to balance it out, now it's your turn."

Make something that could survive outside this room. Jack clicked his stick together. “One, two—” The room filled with sound. Axl’s voice rose first, raspy and rough. His guitar followed him instinctively, every chord sitting exactly where it belonged. The vibration travelled up his arms and into his chest, grounding him, reminding him that this—this noise, this chaos—was the only place he had ever truly belonged. Rihon slid in beneath it, anchoring the rhythm with a steady bass line, and Jack drove the entire thing forward with a tight, restrained beat.

"But they’re moving too fast. They don't see us." "Can you call them, Leo?" I asked, kneeling beside him. "Can you make them hear us?" Leo looked at me, then at Nevan. He looked at the wreckage of our empire. "I can't call them with a signal. I have to call them with a memory. I need a song that belongs to the Earth." Nevan and I looked at each other. A song of the Earth. Not a protocol. Not a blueprint. I began to hum. It wasn't a Sovereign frequency. It was a lullaby my mother had sung to me in Florence, long before she became the Architect. A simple, messy, human melody about the rain and the olive trees.

"The 'Gods-of-the-Gears' are now the 'Gods-of-the-Garbage-Cans'." "There is no 'High' or 'Low' work, Lucas," Audrey replied, her essence focused on the "Flow" of the "Universal-Scrubbers." "There is only the 'Work' that 'Needs-to-be-Done.' If we don't clean the 'Pipe,' the 'Song' stops. And we’ve come too far to let the music die from a 'Clog'."

he murmured, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He stepped back out of the booth, closing the door and trapping me inside the quiet cage. I watched through the double-paned window as Jace walked over to the leather producer’s chair behind the mixing console. He sat naked in the chair, pressed the talkback button on the desk and his voice echoed into my headphones. “The backing track for Sovereign is loaded,” Jace’s voice rumbled in my ears. “Do not hold back, kid. Sing it like you belong to me.”

In the end, the toxic haters, along with the desperate fan circles of Darius and Nyra, all agreed on the trap. “Great. Let's see his fingers play that!” “My ears have heard a master elder play that track once, so my mind is super curious to hear Azel’s messy failure.” “This song is incredibly difficult to match. I wonder if Azel is about to ruin his own face.” Since my eyes cannot see the scrolling chat lines from my spot on the floor, Jonah reads out the final choice for my ears. "The network wants your claws to play an old tribal track called 'A Warrior's Iron Armor,' Azel. Is your banjo ready for that?"

My footsteps echoed in the cold, metallic space, amplifying the gravity of my intent. The two bastards were bound to chairs, their eyes wide with fear as they realized the tables had turned. My voice was low and dangerous as I approached them, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. "You thought you could hurt my fiance and get away with it?" I hissed, my tone sending shivers down their spines, making them shake visibly.